Lonny, at Story County Fair, Iowa, showing a Milking Shorthorn steer raised by his Grandpa Flack.
Our family has been a member of the American Shorthorn Association for over 60 years. The relationship with Shorthorn cattle, however, goes back much further. Both of my Grandfathers had Milking Shorthorns dating back to the 1920's. To the best of my knowledge, their Milking Shorthorns were not registered over the years, but they were purebred. These were true farmer's cattle. They were dual purpose and used for milk and meat for the family and farm income.
Grandpa Flack farmed about 4 miles straight north of Lohrville, Iowa. Today he would be referred to today as a tenant farmer. I was told he never wanted to own land because his brother lost all his land in the 1930's. The land was not lost because he had no money, it was because the bank where he had his money went under. He was able to purchase more land later in life and at one time my Father and his two brothers farmed land their uncle owned in Calhoun and Greene Counties. My brother, two sisters, cousins, and I alternated spending a week with our grandparents at their farm when we were kids.
The Flack’s house near Churdan, Iowa
I was born and initially lived near Churdan, Iowa. Later when we moved to near Nevada, Iowa, in 1957 or 58, we would meet them at either Harcourt or Pilot Mound and ride to their farm. On one occasion, we stopped at a small cafe on the east side of Main Street in Dayton and I had my first fountain Coca Cola. It was REALLY good. I remain partial to Coke to this day, but I've never had one that compared to the first.
Grandpa and Grandma Flack had no running water on the farm. In fact, they never had running water until they retired from farming and moved to Lake City in the late 60's. There were two hand pumps in the front yard, one perhaps 20 feet from the house and the other right next to the house. Grandma would send me out for water and occasionally instructed me to get it from the pump by the house. I suppose I figured out why in college. They burned corn cobs in the house. There was a cob house about the size of a two car garage. I would get a bucket of cobs and it was used in the stove in the kitchen. A three hole outhouse was located through the yard fence about 50 feet into the pasture west of the house. Some early mornings it seemed it was 50 miles away.
Lonny in 1959, not quite 5 years old, at the Nahnsen farm.
I learned to drive a tractor on their farm. I remember the new corn crib with the ears of corn hanging down in the alley way. Grandpa told me he was going to save the kernels from the middle of the ear to plant for next year. I was totally perplexed. Was Grandpa just planting the inner kernels in hopes of raising corn with no ends? Did he think if he only planted the middle kernels he would eventually grow longer ears? I suppose his reasoning was another thing I learned in college.
Grandpa Flack was down to milking just a handful of Shorthorns by the time I was old enough to help with the chores. The cows were milked by hand and Grandpa spent some time teaching me how to properly milk them. The time spent outside with Grandpa was truly treasured and I was determined to make this work one way or another. There were just two problems. One, I could never understand how the cow could always hit me in the side of the face with her tail. I was taught milking a cow was a two hand job. Every time things started going properly, I was smacked with a tail. I tried putting my left arm up to protect my face and milk with only one hand. Of course, the cow never swished her tail when my arm was up. As soon as I lowered my arm, whap, right in the face. I finally gave up and just lived with it. The second problem, perhaps the most difficult, was staying balanced on that stupid one legged stool. My skinny little hind end was not made for a one legged stool.
Grandpa and Grandma Nahnsen lived northwest of Jefferson, near the town of Churdan. He milked maybe 20 Shorthorn cows and had electric milking machines. This solved the problem of getting swatted in the face with a tail and there were no one legged stools to deal with. There were always plenty of cats in the barn. A couple of tin pans were filled with milk and the cats waited impatiently for them to be filled. Maybe it wasn’t nice, but I would occasionally squirt them in the face with milk directly from the cow. Not nice, but kind of fun for a little boy.
Corn, hay, and oats were raised on the farm. This was typical for most area farms since soybeans had not become popular and nearly all the farmers had livestock. There was a lane outlined by electric fence from the barn to the various fields and pastures. We would walk down the lane, open the pasture gate, and follow the cows towards the barn surrounded by corn and hay fields. After milking, the cows were moved through the lane back to their pasture. A few cows were used as nurse cows and raised the calves born throughout the year.
Example of pulley system to load hay into barn loft.
Grandpa Flack’s barn was filled with loose hay. Since Grandpa Nansen had more cattle his hay was put up all in square bales. We would drive the baler down the same lane used to move the cows and enter the hay field instead of the pasture. The hay would be stacked on racks and moved to the barn for storage. Grandpa worked on the rack, securing a claw like apparatus at the end of a rope. The rope stretched to the top of the barn and then down the middle where it would “trip” and drop the maybe 10 bales of hay lifted from the rack. My uncles were still in high school at this time and they would stack the hay in the barn. My job through all this was to drive the Allis Chalmers D-17 back and forth, raising and lowering the rope through a series of pullies over and over again until the rack was empty. I think my little legs were sore for a week after working the clutch for a few hours.
The Farmstead where Lonny was born.
Most farms in central Iowa were similar to my Grandparent’s farms. There really wasn’t much specialization. The people, land, and livestock worked in unison. Our lives of today have been greatly influenced by the past generations and I am proud that Shorthorns have played a significant role in that heritage.
Author Profile: Lonny Flack
I have had a life-long first hand relationship with Shorthorn cattle. Both of my Grandparents had grade Milking Shorthorns. My father purchased his first registered beef Shorthorn in the late 50's and we have been ASA members ever since. The purebred herd has been expanded over the years and at one time numbered over 100 cows. We had no experience showing cattle, but my brother and I started showing our calves at the Story County Fair in Nevada, Iowa, in the early 60's. We tried to learn on the go and eventually showed cattle at several fairs around Iowa and from Louisville to Denver. Our family showed at the Iowa State Fair for 52 consecutive years, finally coming to an end when Covid hit in 2020. We have been blessed to meet so many wonderful people over the years and fortunate to witness the development of the Shorthorn breed for over 60+ years. Over the next few months I will be sharing my recollections of this experience.